Dreams and Dying and Real Life

Last night I dreamt that I was going to be hung. It sounds rather horrific, but fortunately I managed to realize (in my dream) that it was a dream, so it didn’t actually happen. I also reasoned that people don’t really kill others by hanging much anymore. (I am still logical even in dreams. Fancy that.)

So then, in my dream, I started wondering–if I really were about to be hung, what would I want to say first? And also, what does one think about while one is being hung? (Sorry. My brain just really does work like this.) I also wondered how I’d feel about what I’ve done so far in my life.

It was really quite fascinating, (especially since I knew it really wasn’t going to happen) though I don’t remember any brilliant revelations or speeches anything like that.

But… what would I say if I were going to die soon?

I’m not quite sure. God knows best, so I’d definitely be asking Him what to say. Overall, though… I think it would be something along the lines of, God is awesome even in this, I can’t wait to see Him, I hope you know Him, if you don’t, please seek Him. (I imagine I’d speak in run-on sentences if I only had a few minutes left to speak.)

What would I think about while I was getting hung? (Sorry if this is making your neck hurt.)

In my dream, I remember having a sort of “duh” moment: Jesus. What else would I think about? I think that’s a good answer. I’d also probably think about seeing God and heaven and others who had gone ahead. I might think back on my life. I might think about people I loved who were still on earth. That would be sad, but there’d be hope of them coming along soon. I’d probably think about random fascinating things like I usually do. Or maybe… maybe it would be so painful that all I could think about was Jesus. Maybe I’d just be glad that I could suffer for Him, and thankful that He did this, for me, only so much worse.

What would I think about what I’ve done so far?

I dunno. There’s a lot to be glad of… but there would be so much more to be desired. I think I’d be sad over all the wasted time. I think I’d wish that I had spent more of my life joyfully serving and loving God and others. I think I’d wish I could’ve brought more glory to God. I’d be grateful for grace…

Sometimes I think it would be easier to die early. Then people could read all my journals and blog posts and stuff, and they could see all these lofty notions of following hard after God (and also how scribbly my handwriting can be and how I’m not really that good at spelling and how repetitive and lame sounding I can be.), and they’d think I was an amazingly godly person. Though, actually, I’m not, not really… not like I want to be, not like I talk or write.

But I’m still alive, and that means that I actually have to do the stuff. (Plus, who cares what people think when you’re actually dying/dead??)

I can’t just write, can’t just rant, can’t just blog, can’t just teach, can’t just talk, can’t just write encouragy letters/emails/FB G+ posts… I have to get down on my knees and let God change my heart and life. And I have been. And it is hard and it hurts and I still try too much.

But Jesus Christ Himself is living in me and I am in Him, and He is teaching me, leading me, changing me–and surely He can make even me into the vessel He wants.

What would you say, think, reflect on if you were going to be/getting hung?

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4 thoughts on “Dreams and Dying and Real Life

  1. “This is a super not epic way to die” Ok, sorry, good post Carissa, not morbid at all! I often think about things like this.

    • Yeah, I know. I actually did think that. “Why hanging??”

      Haha, I know you do. 😉 It was fun talking about this sort of thing with you and Eddie and having everyone else think we were nuts… (remember when we planned our funerals?)

  2. If, like Dietrich Bonhoeffer, who was executed at a concentration camp by hanging in 1945 twelve years after writing a book called “The Cost of Discipleship,” I was hanged because of my faithfulness to Christ, I would pray for forgiveness to those hanged me, and pray that I had been an acceptable servant.

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